


Spellbound

by corinnemaree



Category: Jurassic World Trilogy (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Alternate Universe - Witchcraft, F/M, Halloween, Witches
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-30
Updated: 2018-10-30
Packaged: 2019-08-11 01:27:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16466069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/corinnemaree/pseuds/corinnemaree
Summary: Claire Dearing lives in a small town, and her secret life of a witch is not so secret. She has met other supernatural creatures living in the town, and must help the lone-werewolf - Owen Grady - from being tortured during his shift.aka. short fic collection of the lives of the supernatural living in their safe little town.





	Spellbound

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fun fic idea I had for finishing my very last semester at university! So this is to dealingdreams, who I basically wrote this for without realising it haha. And yes....Owen is a werewolf...big surprise, I like writing werewolf!Owen. I DO HOPE EVERYONE LIKES THIS AU AND WANTS THE OTHER PARTS CURRENTLY IN THE WORKS!!

On the streets of a small town, trees shed their leaves with an orange hue and yellowing ends, whisked away when the winds decided to whisper. Claire leaned on the balcony of the second floor, watching as the morning sun began to rise and the earth came to life, and the dark creatures returning to their daytime slumber. Breathing in, she felt the autumn breeze seep into her, her warm mug of coffee keeping her hands at a lovely temperature, and everything felt right. Along the main street, people ran their morning jog, waving to her and telling her how lovely her garden looked. They always said that.

It was a town just out of sight, population big enough where everyone knew each other and rumours could spread to hundreds and thousands all across town. It was amazing how accurate it could be. When Claire had moved in, she bought the shop and made the second floor her home - a little flower shop with a private apothecary in the back. And from that moment on, Claire was known as the witch. She didn’t deny it - wasn’t like she could - but it was just a small town rumour that no one had any foundations for. It wasn’t until a year or two later that she realised that the town was populated with the mythical and strange - the humans were just used it now. So, Claire didn’t hide her nightly roaming of the forest for supplies, or the broom that helped her travel to and from her home. She never frightened them in daylight, but it wasn’t like she would be seen very well in the dark. 

Things felt right in the small town of Priory. Safe, even. Which was a rarity for Claire. It always felt like she was on the edge of something; a fight, a battle, a betrayal, anything that meant she had to use her magic. She was a witch, and a very powerful one, but she rarely liked using her magic for fights. She felt so worn, like an elder witch torn from herself to protect her coven. But Claire had none of that. She was alone, and in the town, she was peaceful.

Tying her robe up, Claire shuffled down the stairs, walking past the flower shop and into the apothecary. In the morning hours, the little workshop seemed so dark compared to the flower shop, with only candles and small embers of flames from brewing potions left to light the room. Claire always felt it wasn’t safe to leave the apothecary open in any fashion - so, a spell was cast to hide the room, closing shutters and sealing the door shut save for Claire’s hand opening the knob. 

Checking on several potions, she jarred the ones that had cooled and cast sealing spells over the ones that needed protection. With her supplies freshly stocked, and the flowers arriving later in the day, Claire felt ready for business. In the corner, she saw the plants in their clay pots shifting and wriggling for movement. She shuffled over, hushing them down and running her fingers over their delicate heads. Mandrakes could always get antsy when they were ready to be pulled. 

“How are you, beautiful? You are gorgeous this morning. Oh! And almost ready to be used,” Claire said, hearing them whisper their air and shift back into place, finding comfort in their soil again. She smiled, sipping at her coffee before the hair on the back of her neck stood up, and Claire rolled her eyes. 

“And here I was thinking you were talking to me,” he said, voice cocky as ever. Turning to Owen, she shook her head. Werewolves always had a way of setting off Claire’s senses - driving her to a point of protection. She was friends with Owen, after all, one of the first people to help her settle into the town and its common rules. She didn’t need to be warned about him like other wolves. 

“You need to stop using the secret entrance, someone might see you,” she said, moving towards the venus flytrap and letting her fingers dance in the air, flies soon coming to the plant. Ever since she bound the apothecary from others, she realised, that if Karen ever needed her help - she may not be able to get inside - so on the outside wall, with a push of a brick, a secret door to the witch workshop opened. It wasn’t her intention to let Owen find it, but like always, he was a dog that trailed scents, and found the brick on his own. He did, however, promise to never utter a word of it -  Claire had threatened to rip out his tongue, so that might have impacted his decision making process.

“And if I were talking to you...I wouldn’t have sounded so sweet,” Claire smirked, and Owen chuckled, arms crossed over his chest. The flies hovered over the plant before the trap-mouth closed over the top, and Claire smiled. 

“You’re right. But I wanted to come and see you,” Owen said, moving off the side entrance door frame and follow Claire, step-by-step. She knew his tendencies, but it was strange how he acted like a loyal dog sometimes. 

“Why? Running out of tails to chase around town?” Claire replied, checking on the jasmine and the richness of the soil. Owen leaned over her shoulder, his voice soft but with the readiness for play. 

“Saw you on the balcony, wondering what you’re thinking about. Considering going back to your coven?” he asked, chin leaning on her shoulder and looking up at her eye. 

“Not now. I like it here. And business is booming, so who am I to complain?” she said, clutching onto her mug. She turned back to Owen, leaning on the counter, and he did the same across from her. 

“The town talks. They might find out about you,” he said, folding his arms. 

“The entire town thinks I’m a witch, as long as I’m not hunted down, I don’t care who knows,” she replied, jabbing her finger into Owen’s belly. She was surprised when it came back extremely firm. She really shouldn’t have been. As Claire started to head out, Owen let out a soft whine, and Claire turned, crinkling her brow. She’d never heard him sound so much like a dog - the whine of a wolf begging for help.  

“I gotta head out of town for the few days, can I grab some vervain and sage?” he asked. Claire put down her mug and moved around the apothecary.

“Warding plants, that’s a new one,” she said, hovering her fingers over the hanging plants, trying to find the bundles of dried flowers to give to him. 

“Gotta protect something. If you have anything stronger, that would help too,” he said, and the chill that once made her wary of a wolf now sensed danger - something she knew she couldn’t ignore. Finding the sage, she grabbed two bundles, and went to her hidden collection of protection potions and finding the most potent one. 

Also the only one she had. 

With a mixture of vervain, honeysuckle, peppermint oil, dragon scale and extract from a vampire fang - it was an incredibly hard collection of ingredients to come by. But something didn’t sit right within Claire, and she knew she could part with it. 

“I’m giving this to you because I’m worried about you. Repeat this phrase four times,” she said, indicating the instructions on the back, “and make sure, if you’re protecting a home, to seal each window and door with this and smoking sage nearby,” she told him, handing over the rest of the supplies. Owen searched his pockets and handed over whatever he had on him. She was going to say that he didn’t have to - but she knew Owen better than that. He was going to pay her in one way or another. 

“Thanks for this. Just...some stuff going on with family,” he explained, but Claire didn’t need to know. 

“This can be very powerful, so make sure whoever needs protecting is inside the home so it recognises those who need the most protection,” she warned him, trying her hardest to be supportive, but it was easier for her to just tell him exactly what he needed. 

“Are you...haunting my house?” he asked and Claire chuckled. 

“In a way. Just has some of my magic, so when someone in the home is threatened, I’ll sense it and protect the house in anyway I can,” she shrugged and Owen’s brow furrowed, looking at her in surprise. 

“How powerful are you?” 

“You don’t wanna know.” 

Days in Priory were a busy quiet - the ordinary days of mortals going to and from work and school, opening and closing shops, having breakfast and lunch out on main street, and maintaining their homes. But through it all, it never rose more than murmurs. It was peaceful. Claire loved this part of the year - All Hallows Eve so close, and the town enjoying Claire’s company a lot more. And, of course, her magic was at its highest peak, and she was not open for business to observe the holiday of her ancestors. Priory was her safe place to celebrate. 

It had been a week since Claire had seen Owen, but she still had several regular customers to deal with - mortal and supernatural alike. Zara stopped by, bearing fruits from the fae forest only two towns away - they were a great thing to add to ingested potions, and plus having a faerie's help on natural ingredients always helped. Lowery stopped by to get a love potion - his mortal knowledge on witchcraft was limited, so Claire had to explain how the effects of a love potion actually manifest. After having a long...and tiring discussion they agreed it was best that Lowery not have the love potion. Instead, Claire gave him a small vial that would help him with his confidence. 

And, apart from her side business, she sold her flowers to the town, even some pumpkins to help with halloween decorations. It was fine in the little town. But she felt lonely, lost in the her place. She found comfort in being helpful when she could, but it also felt like she wasn’t doing enough. It didn’t help that she was nervous about her protection spell. Or the fact that she should have been with her sister this time of year. All Hallow’s Eve, although welcoming in the town, always felt lonely without her coven. 

Leg of Lizard, scale of dragon, tooth of wolf, ancient sea salt, root of hemlock, and toads. All the ingredients she needed. It had been a while since she had gone hunting for more things, and it was getting to the busy season - she should have done this all sooner. In any case, she could find most things she needed in the forest and could request items from clients or contacts if she was desperate. 

When dusk fell, Claire changed into some relaxed culottes, a crop top that may have been a band-shirt in a past life, and sneakers. Touching at her broom, she rested bags filled with jars over the shaft, guiding it along with her as she waded through the trees. Humming to a song that had been playing on the radio, Claire found honeysuckle that she could use for a new protection spell, and jarred it whilst continuing to move on. As night came and gripped darkness to its breast, Claire twirled her fingers and illuminated her palm, acting as a flashlight. 

Even with the aid of the light, so bright it was practically a flood of sunlight, she still couldn’t find anything. The most common ingredients she could gather in the forest was root of hemlock - and in the midst of the wood, she couldn’t find the damn stuff. She managed to get flower samples to test, and extracting juices and fangs from creatures with their permission, but she needed some fucking hemlock and it didn’t seem to be anywhere in sight. Claire huffed, slouching against a tree. 

“If you keep going on nightly rounds of the forest, people might see that broom of yours,” a familiar voice said and Claire jumped, grabbing hold of her broom for dear life. Turning around and flashing the light in his face, Claire saw Owen squinting, covering the light from his eyes as much as possible. Dimming the illuminated hand, she moved to Owen and punched him in the shoulder. 

“You scared the shit out of me! I thought you were out of town,” she said, looking down at the ground and gasping. At Owen’s feet sat hemlock and Claire scattered to the ground, pulling up the plant carefully and making sure the roots were intact. 

“You should be more careful,” Owen said, stepping back from her hands. 

“What are you doing out here?” she asked, placing the hemlock in her jars and going through the bunch. 

“Came to find you. You weren’t at the shop, and I know all your best hiding spots,” he said, moving to her side like he always did. 

“They’re not hiding spots, I’m going to get resources,” she reminded and Owen nodded. 

“Sure, or are you just coming out here to spend time with me.” 

“Very funny,” Claire laughed before Owen put a jar in front of her. Taking it, she realised what it was; ancient sea salt, “oh...you have -” 

“I did say I came to find you,” he said, giving her a smile that made her heart melt. He was the only reason she had ancient sea salt to work with in the first place - she needed one for a client who was sick with a witch’s curse, and Owen knew where to get some. In exchange for him getting all the sea salt she asked for, she gave him lycanthropy easing potions. It was just something to ease the pain during the transition, and if he was lucky and took it just in time, he wouldn’t transform at all. 

“Oh, thank you,” she replied, “I’ve been...I’ve been needing this for a while, but I didn’t want to pressure you.” 

“It’s alright, my shifts have been a little all over the place so I haven’t been around that area,” he explained and Claire’s brow furrowed. 

“Oh, come to the shop, I’ll give you the buckwheat and mistletoe tonic, I added a little cinnamon so the taste is better this time,” she said, and Owen nodded slowly, following her as she walked. 

“Thanks,” he said softly.

“You alright?” 

“Yeah, just really close to the full moon.” Owen rubbed the back of his neck, but something was clearly still bothering him when he took the lycanthropy tonic with him. She wanted to ask, but didn’t think she should pry. 

Looking up her phases, she saw the full moon was only a few days away, and it made Claire worried. In the midst of it all, she usually heard from Owen more, he wanted her to make sure he didn’t end up in town after the full moon appears and they spoke regularly on the day of the full moon. And as Claire sat in her flower shop, she heard nothing. Five days away and not a word. She sighed. 

When the bell rang, she chirped up when she saw the same old brown leather jacket with fur collar. 

“Hey you!” she beamed, waving Owen over. He smiled, skipping in a few steps to get to her a little faster, “what can I get you?” 

Claire was about to get up when Owen caught her wrist, “I came and see if I can get a bouquet.” 

“You want me for the flower shop?” she asked.

“Of sorts,” he shrugged.

“What can I get you?” she said, rounding the shop counter. 

“A bunch of buckwheat.” Claire turned to him. 

“You’re not serious.” 

“Deadly.” 

“If you plan on giving this to a werewolf lady, she isn’t going to be impressed. It’s not a very impressive plant,” Claire scoffed, moving through her shop then dashing off to her apothecary, “and I’m out. Shit, I used the last of it on the lycanthropy potion,” she swore under her breath. 

“You sell buckwheat and you don’t even know what it means?” Owen said to her surprise.

“I just need to know what it does. I don’t need to know its meaning. I’ll get you some in a few days, is that okay?” she asked. Owen’s hand knocked on the counter and he winked to her. 

“Take your time.” 

Claire scoffed, sitting back down, but watched as Owen left the story. He waved from the window before tucking his hands into his pockets and heading down the street. Claire, unsure of herself, felt her face get unnaturally warm, and her chest was filled with a sense of - well she wasn’t sure what, but it felt incredibly strange. 

Locking up the store that night, Claire was about to walk up the steps to her apartment when there was a knock to the apothecary door. She wasn’t expecting anyone, so she moved cautiously to the door. Peeking through the curtain, there was no one there, and she opened the door. When she saw nothing there, she was about to close the door when something rattled on the door knob outside. 

Attached to a string was a lovely bunch of fresh buckwheat with a small note to go along with it. Claire unhooked the string and brought it inside. Flicking the note up, she read it and smiled. 

_ ‘Just so you know, it means lovers. Keep the buckwheat. Owen’ _

Claire pursed her lips, feeling her face grow warm again and putting it with her other supplies, touching at the flowers. Gathering up her grimoire, Claire went to her room and propped herself up in bed - reading new spells she could cast if the occasion ever called for it. 

The day of the full moon arrived, and Claire felt a little on edge. She had known of many werewolves in the area, two of her lycanthropy potions were sold right before closing. But what weighed on her was the fact that since she’d received the buckwheat, she hadn’t heard from Owen. She understood that maybe it was different this month - that something was going on with him somewhere, but something in her still worried. Pushing the fears aside, she moved on with her day and locked up shop. 

Inside her apartment, Claire had gotten ready for bed, toothbrush still in her mouth when her apothecary door started to pound angrily. Finishing up quickly, Claire raced down the stairs and to the door, opening it to see Owen hunched over and clutching at the door frame.

“Claire,” he rasped, “help me.” He looked so broken, shoulders tension and body a heap of what it once was. He seemed so much paler than he usually was, as though he was extremely sick. 

“Owen….you know I don’t serve werewolves on full moons,” she explained, but when he looked up at her, eyes so red they looked like blood vessels had burst all the way through, she stepped back. 

“Please!” he yelled, the red deepening. Claire’s fists clenched, watching as Owen breathed through his rage. “Please, I’m in so much pain,” he begged, wincing and Claire sighed. 

“Get inside,” she whispered, shutting the door behind them. Going to her workbench, she moved things around, making sure the whole thing was clear before Owen collapsed down on top of it. “What’s happening?” she asked as Owen bellowed out in pain, clutching at himself again. 

“I’ve been shifting,” he groaned, rolling onto his side as his pain-filled noises turned monstrous. Looking at him, Owen bore wolf fangs and was ripping into his lips as he bit down. Claire grabbed at a wooden spoon, and placed it in between Owen’s teeth. 

“What?”

“The pain doesn’t ease, and I don’t know where I end up,” he muttered with the spoon between his lips, “the mistletoe isn’t working anymore.” 

“That’s not supposed to happen,” 

“No shit,” Owen chuckled before roaring out in pain again. 

“Are you saying you’ve become immune to mistletoe?” she said, and Owen yelled again, banging his fist into the table. “Ok, ok! Uh, I think I have wolfsbane around here somewhere -” 

“Claire, I can’t take it,” he said, taking the spoon from his mouth. Claire murmured to herself, trying to look through all her jars and chaos that her workshop now felt like it was in. 

“I’m trying,” she replied. 

“No, not that,” Owen said, voice must softer than before, “you have to do it,” he said, and Claire turned to him. When he nodded to her, eyes pleading, she knew what he meant. 

“Owen, you can’t make me do that.” 

“I can’t take the pain anymore, please,” he begged. 

“Spellbinding is really dangerous, I can’t just -” 

Then, Owen’s back arched harshly, the creaking of bones so loud, Claire buckled against the countertop. “Do it now!” he yelled. 

Claire rummaged through her oldest grimoire, the one that her grandmother had past to her. There was a time where Owen had asked about binding a wolf, and she had made it known that she knew of a spell - she didn’t think he’d take her up on it. Reading the incantation a few times through, Claire positioned her fingers as though she was crafting a dreamcatcher, string woven in and between fingers before breathing out a soft breath. 

Then, her fingers started to move in different but deliberate patterns, dancing over Owen as he laid on the table, clutching onto the edge, with the spoon between his teeth again. She let her arms circle, muttering the phrase over and over again, ramping up the volume as the magic filled the room. When it had gathered, she saw it manifest in a purple hue, a whirling wind circling Owen, and Claire’s hand lit up with blue lightning, hidden beneath her skin. It hurt, but she needed to get this all done. Owen seemed worse than she was. 

_ “Liga lupus, curam homo _

_ Pecus sit obvia post vectes, et homo vixit in carne  _

_ Dolore debet dispergam et debet sanari  _

_ Voco in magna potentia ad eum ligare, liberare eum de eius onus _

_ Opus obligare lupus in hac nocte, quando luna plena est _

_ Liga lupus et nisi homo” _

“It’s not working,” Owen cried, hands distorting into claws, bones sticking closer to the surface of his flesh. He curled up and beat on the table. Claire’s hands went to his shoulders, one soon resting on his forehead. 

“Sit still!” she snapped, repeating the chant as many times as she could before the purple whirlwind around them dispersed and the blue sparks that raced from Claire’s hand faded. Collapsing back into the surrounding benchtops, Claire looked to Owen who wasn’t moving an inch. Cautiously, Claire moved over to him, watching as he was breathing deep and even breaths. Then, he sat up, swinging his legs over the edge. 

Examining himself, Claire watched as he seemed to regain himself, colour returning to his skin and limbs looking in order. 

“The pain….it’s gone,” he exclaimed, and Claire sighed in relief. 

“Good,” she said, before Owen pulled her forward, arms over her shoulders as he held her closely. They had never hugged before - an unusual closeness that they had never crossed into. Claire wrapped her arms tentatively around his back and rested her cheek into his shoulder. “You’re okay, you’re okay.”

**Author's Note:**

> *rough translation of the latin said* 
> 
> Bind the wolf, take care of the man  
> Beast be shielded behind bars, and man lived within flesh  
> The pain must disperse and he must be healed  
> I call on the great power to bind him, to free him of his burden  
> Work to bind the wolf on this night when the moon is full  
> Bind the wolf and save the man
> 
> ** note, all latin was taken from an online translator that will have mistakes, so just get the rough idea and we're good to go


End file.
